


An Acid By Any Other Name

by ear_hats



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, john tries to make shakespeare jokes, science cannot explain your feelings, sherlock stop it with the dangerous chemicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ear_hats/pseuds/ear_hats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There he was, hovering over the kitchen table which seemed to be growing various beakers of brightly coloured (and dangerously clear) liquids, a pair of goggles making his fringe stick up oddly. The sight made John feel a little better. If he was going to blow up the flat he might as well look as much of an idiot as he was being at the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Acid By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> I should have been revising when I wrote this, which is why it's so short. I put all my GCSE chemistry knowledge to good use, obviously. Beta-d by FezzesRCool25 over on fanfiction.net, thanks :)

John took three steadying breaths before stepping into the kitchen. There he was, hovering over the kitchen table which seemed to be growing various beakers of brightly coloured (and dangerously clear) liquids, a pair of goggles making his fringe stick up oddly. The sight made John feel a little better. If he was going to blow up the flat he might as well look as much of an idiot as he was being at the time.

“Good morning?” 

Sherlock straightened too rapidly and had to blink a few times while the head-rush cleared. Not eating again, John grumbled inwardly. At least he was sleeping now. “John! You’d better put these on.” Another pair of the oversized goggles was thrust in his direction. 

“Why, what have you got?” John eyed the two different flasks in Sherlock’s hands suspiciously, attempting to tighten the sides of the goggles and settling for having them half hanging off his nose when they wouldn’t budge. Curse Sherlock for having such big hair. 

“Calcium hydroxide solution.” Sherlock held up the flask in his left hand and then his right, “Acetic acid-” 

“-Vinegar.” John finished for him. “So why do we need the goggles?” Such a guilty look passed over Sherlock’s face; John felt his insides clench. A gloved hand (gardening gloves again, Sherlock?) gestured towards a beaker on the worktop. 

“Hydrogen Fluoride.” 

“Sherlock!” John heard himself gasp. “Where did you get that?!” And then, more importantly, “Sherlock, that’s where I make the tea!” 

The apologetic, puppy dog eyes were back. Sherlock reminded John of his old dog, Gladstone. He’d let him get away with bloody murder too. “Butter wouldn’t melt.” He mumbled, stepping over to Sherlock and away from what is only one of the world’s most dangerous acids. In their flat. “I’m not touching it.” Sherlock smirked briefly before returning to his work, a small frown pinching the space between his eyebrows. 

“What are you doing with that anyway?” John pulled out a chair and sat, just away from Sherlock so as not to disturb him, watching as he dropped a few splashes of Universal Indicator into the solutions. 

“Experiment.” 

The vinegar turned a vibrant red and the calcium hydroxide a rich purple. John would have thought Sherlock would already know that acids go red and alkalis go purple – surely it’s more relevant than the solar system – but he watched as Sherlock reached behind him for a chair and then opted for the floor when he realised John had taken it, never once breaking his stare with the solutions. 

“Sherlock?” 

“It’s so odd, John.” The detective was rising to his feet again, intense gaze making John feel slightly hot under the collar. “In popular culture, acids are the ones with bad connotations, not alkalis, they don’t even get a mention, John.” John nodded, not quite sure what he was agreeing with. “And yet-” The beaker containing the acid was thrust into his face, red because of the indicator he’d put in. “Red.” 

“I don’t get it.” John would have felt indignant at the long suffering sigh that answered his question, except he was far too used to them now. 

“Red, John. When you go red it isn’t a bad thing. You go red when you’re embarrassed, or when I try to do nice things.” Sherlock cleared his throat, glancing over to the fridge which was stocked with not one, but two bottles of milk. He was a little bit red himself, John noticed smugly. “All acids are red but they’re the ones with the bad name. However if you compare it to an alkali, which is rarely mentioned as a dangerous substance . . .” He held up the purplish solution, “Purple is always a bad thing. You go purple when you’re really mad.” 

John did feel indignant at this, actually. 

“What? No I don’t!” 

“You do. And you have a vein which sticks out in your forehead.” He made a flicking gesture with his fingers at about John’s head height and frowned as John did. “It’s endearing.” 

“You find it endearing when I’m _purple_ with anger?” Sherlock looked guilty again. John sighed. 

“I hate it when popular culture completely ignores the basic laws of science.” Sherlock grumbled, adding something about the stupid general populous and the need to be able to spell. John idly rubbed a spot in the middle of his forehead and stood. 

“Tea?” 

“-Ridiculous! Companies just aiming to exploit- What? Oh, yes.” 

“Then I suggest you move the Hydrogen Fluoride, preferably out of the flat. And I will find out if you dump it in the married ones’ plant pots.” John stepped forward to kiss him anyway. Despite the dangerous chemicals in the _tea making zone_ , he was rather touched by what Sherlock was trying to say. 

“See! Acid!” Sherlock cried as John pulled away. Was he even blushing? Surely not. “I don’t understand.” 

“Maybe it’s just me.” The out of charge beep went off as soon as John tried to switch on his laptop. Someone had been stealing it again. Sherlock huffed. 

“You give acids a bad name, John Watson.” 

“An acid by any other name will still burn through the work top.” 

“That was terrible.” 

“. . .” 

“. . .” 

“I know.”


End file.
